I hear them stories
Of how the days went by
For the elderly
Who once lived a life
I witness everything in black and white
As their eyes speak the truth
Filled with love and light
In front of me
Are the trees they climbed
And the stars they counted
On a quiet friday's night
Oh how I wish I could hear the rhyme
Of the birds and the wind
That once ruled the skies
So I drown in the memories
Of an age never known
As I grieve at the loss of
The wonders of a lost time

I feel lost
In time that's running
Yet somehow, stuck.

We could be so beautiful
With poetry in our eyes
If you and I could look up
To the moon and the skies

The times that go by
Take away a part of me
I slowly fade
In the fog of memories

Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

Every morning I wake in that dream
When the stars take over,
I bleed thoughts into darkness
And die a slow death
Then I live for a few hours
I laugh, I cry, I scream, and fly
...then I stumble back to the same dream